


In the Arms of Morpheus

by MindNoise



Series: Greek Gods [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindNoise/pseuds/MindNoise
Summary: More Greek gods! Tommy is having bad dreams.(You know by now I hate summaries.)





	1. Fire in the Sky

Tommy jerks, his muscles filling with a short burst of adrenaline, then going weak. The woman before him doubles over. Blood pours from her mouth, her nose, her eyes, even her ears. Anger burns in him, low and dangerous. She took his soul. She took Adam. She can’t get away with it. Her movements stop. She looks at him with her bloody eyes. It’s an accusing stare, one filled with pain and hatred for what he’s doing. He hates that look. She has no right to give him that look or even feel that way. She opens her mouth to speak. He doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. She bursts into flames before she can utter a sound.

Tommy wakes with a jolt, his arm arching wide and hitting Adam next to him.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, raising his head off the pillows.

“Nothing,” Tommy says. He shakes his head and tries to smile. “Crazy dream.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trying to make his tone even.

Adam lays his head down again and closes his eyes. He spent a year lecturing Tommy about how gods don’t need sleep, but since Tommy wouldn’t give it up, wouldn’t even try, Adam fell into the habit himself. Tommy asked why he was suddenly sleeping like a human. Adam shrugged and said he wanted to do things that Tommy did, and sleeping was no big deal anyway. Tommy thinks Adam just doesn’t want to be the only one awake at night. He gets bored easily.

Tommy watches him and when he’s sure Adam is asleep again, he lays back on the pillows and stares at the ceiling. Why is he dreaming about Suzanne? Guilt? No. She deserved it. Maybe. He’s pretty sure she did.

The more he thinks about the dream the more awake he becomes. He rubs his face with both hands and sits up. He looks over at Adam, not wanting to wake him again. He smiles and rolls his eyes remembering how Adam used to denounce sleep. He slips out of bed and goes out onto the balcony.

The wind is warm and soft, blowing off of the ocean with a faint roar. The sky is clear and he can see all of the stars and constellations, even Castor and Pollux. He looks as far as he can over the Aegean Sea. The edge of Athens is to his right and he wonders if he’ll meet Athena one day. Godly vision is pretty cool.

He feels Adam behind him.

“Can’t sleep?” Adam asks, his arms going around Tommy.

Tommy leans back into his chest, his head resting on Adam’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Tommy says.

“Not a big deal,” Adam says. “You know I’m not a fan of sleeping. And I can’t even pretend to sleep if you’re not next to me.”

It’s true that Adam won’t sleep without Tommy. He says he feels incomplete and can’t settle enough to sleep. When he does sleep, it’s lightly.

“Wanna tell me about that dream?” Adam asks.

“No,” Tommy says. “It was just a dream.”

Adam kisses the back of his head.

“Want me to tire you out so you can go back to sleep?” he asks and Tommy laughs.

“Why do I get the feeling that’s a ruse just to have sex?” Tommy asks.

Adam kisses the dip between Tommy’s neck and shoulder.

“I’m just trying to help,” he says, and Tommy laughs harder.

He turns to face Adam, looking up at his god bathed in moonlight. He’s beyond beautiful and he never fails to stop Tommy’s breath. Sometimes Adam will be lost in some task and Tommy will stare at him, visually drink him in, astounded at how such a being is real and walking the earth. Not to mention in love with him. It makes Tommy dizzy sometimes.

He nudges Adam to go back inside and Adam shakes his head.

“Here,” he says, running his thumb along Tommy’s bottom lip. “I want you here.”

               

He’s falling. The blackness underneath him is endless. His drop picks up speed; the wind becomes colder, slapping his face and his eyes water. He’s not sure how he ended up here. Did he fall off something? Was he pushed? He opens his mouth to shout, but the sound is eaten by the dark and the wind assaults the back of his throat. Maybe Tartarus has come for him? He panics. He can’t go through that again. He can’t put Adam through that again.

He sees them. The souls trapped inside Tartarus the god are beneath him. They’re rolling up to meet him. He waves his arms and legs, trying to slow down his descent. He tries to climb the air. He can’t focus on being anywhere else long enough to get him out of this place. The souls howl. He can’t stand the sorrow, the hopelessness, the pain they emit. His own scream builds in his throat. A black hand reaches up toward him.

“Wake up, Tommy,” Adam says sharply.

Tommy opens his eyes and gasps for air. He’s no longer falling. It’s no longer dark. Adam is leaning over him and holding his wrists, worry in his eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Adam asks.

Tommy pulls his wrists out of his grasp.

“Just a dream,” he says.

“Looked more like a nightmare,” Adam says.

Tommy calms his breathing and sits up.

“Just a dream,” he says again.

Adam’s eyes narrow.

“There’s nothing you’re keeping from me, right?” he asks.

“Like what?” Tommy asks.

“Like maybe you’re not coping with something,” Adam says. “Or you’re worried about something.” 

Tommy shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

He can tell Adam’s not convinced but Tommy really isn’t hiding anything. The dreams are sudden and likely his mind working out trauma now that life is settled again. Isn’t that what dreams do? Isn’t that their purpose? He has no idea what to tell Adam but he wishes he’d turn his scrutiny somewhere else.

“Everything’s fine,” Tommy says. “I promise. I’m just having weird dreams. That’s all.”

Adam concedes. “Okay, well, I hope they stop. You were yelling and struggling. It scared me.”

“Sorry,” Tommy says.

“No reason to apologize, love,” Adam says.  “I have to see Zeus for a while. Sort of fill him in on how you’re progressing and how proud I am of you.”

Tommy smiles and ducks his head. Praise from Adam, while desired, makes him self-conscious.

“If you need me-” he begins.

“I know how to get you,” Tommy says. “I’m fine. Go.”

Adam disappears and Tommy lies still, staring at nothing. He’s not sure what to think. He’s never been prone to bad dreams. Then again, he’s never been through a lot of what he’s been put through and his mind probably doesn’t know how to process it all now that it has down time to do so. But they’re just dreams. Why does he feel so uneasy?

He looks at the clock and groans. He promised Mr Pagonis he’d fill in at the gallery today and he’s late. Thankfully, getting dressed and to the gallery is a snap, literally.

The sun streaming in the front windows and the smell of paint and wood and clay soothe him. The lingering shadow of the dream vanishes and Tommy can relax. He settles in and starts working on his latest painting - the Underworld. So far he’s painted the “in between” that he and Adam passed through going to the Elysian Fields. He isn’t planning on adding Adam or himself, but he may add Hades off to the side, sort of moving out of view as though he were caught going into another room. Mr Pagonis loves it so far and thinks Tommy has a fantastic imagination, which almost made Tommy laugh.

He’s lost in the painting and doesn’t notice the woman standing before his counter until she sets down an object in front of him with a heavy thunk. He looks over. She’s tall, blond, and her smile is all lip gloss and teeth. She gives off a vibrant warmth and he smiles back at her.

“Gods you are the cutest thing,” she says.

He doesn’t know what to say, but “gods” doesn’t slip by him unnoticed.

“Guess who?” she asks.

Her excitement equals that of a child at Christmas. If he guesses wrong, he’ll deflate her mood. He’s never met her but the air around her leaves him with no doubt. He puts down his brush.

“Aphrodite,” he says.

She claps her hands, then grabs both of his. At her touch, her warmth spreads through him and he’s reminded of the heart she made for him and Adam when they were sitting in Tartarus. It tingled, then burned when he ate it. The warmth radiating through him now tingles in the same way.

“I’ve been dying to meet you,” she says. “I didn’t want to interfere with your re-bonding time with Agapios, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

“We have you to thank for that,” he says.

She waves a hand at him.

“Anything for my favorite couple,” she says.

He smiles and she releases his hands.

“Oh sweetie, you’re too pretty,” she says. “No surprise at all Agapios is obsessed with you. I would be too.”

“What do we have here?”

Mr Pagonis comes up beside Tommy. Pagonis is looking at Aphrodite with schoolboy adoration and Tommy stifles a laugh.

“This is-” Tommy begins. He’s not sure how to introduce a goddess. He can’t use her real name, can he?

“Dione,” she says to Pagonis. Tommy recognizes it as her mother’s name.

“What a lovely name,” he says.

Tommy points to the purple and white marbled cloth bag on the counter.

“She just brought this by,” he says.

“A little something I wanted to donate to your gallery,” she says.

She unties the drawstring at the top and slides the cloth down. Inside is a bronze statue of a partially draped nude woman. Her head is down, looking over her shoulder and her right foot is angled as though she’s stepping away.

“Amazing,” Pagonis says almost breathlessly. “A replica of the Venus Callipyge in Italy. Is this bronze?”

“Solid as it gets,” Aphrodite says with a confident shrug. “I wanted to donate it.”

“That’s very generous,” Pagonis says.

She pulls the cloth back over it and hands it to him. Pagonis takes it reverently. He gushes his thanks, and can’t seem to decide which is more enticing, the lady in front of him or the statue in his hands. Aphrodite watches him walk away with the statue.

“Mortals are so cute,” she says with a small squeal. “That statue inspired the one in Italy. The original was given to me in 300 BC.”

“Are you sure you want to part with that?” Tommy asks.

“Sweetie, I have so many statues and trinkets that I don’t care to keep up with them anymore,” she says. “Italy may have the big marble replica, but Greece has the original.”

She winks and Tommy smiles.

“I have to go,” she says. “I hope that you’ll let me see you again.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’m here a lot.”

She vanishes and he notices the room get a little cooler once her presence has disappeared. He goes back to his painting.

               

“What exactly is the difference between you and Aphrodite?” he asks.

Adam looks up from the laptop. “What?”

“I mean, she’s the goddess of love, and you are the god of true love, so what’s the difference?” Tommy asks. He’s been wondering this since Aphrodite’s visit.

“Well, she’s more the patron of sex and lust and reproduction,” Adam says. “True love is deeper, more solid, if that makes sense.”

Tommy nods. “What about Eros?”

Adam shrugs. “He has a war counterpart.”

Tommy leans his head back, thinking it over. “I guess love takes many forms.”

“It does,” Adam says, closing the laptop. “That’s why it’s so complicated. What brought this up?”

Tommy tells him about meeting Aphrodite.

“Yes, she is a handful,” Adam says with a laugh. “Very bright and spirited.”

“Yeah, I like her,” Tommy says.

Adam sets the laptop aside and crawls over to him and Tommy is reminded of a predator on the prowl.

“Well I like you,” he says, running his hands up Tommy’s legs.

Tommy grins, hooking his legs around Adam’s back and pulling him closer.

 


	2. Bombs Over Broadway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onward...

He sees the golden apple, the color stabbing his eyes as the sun reflects off of it. It’s his only chance to live. He reaches for it. It’s pulled away. The hand doesn’t look like Adam’s. it’s feminine with long nails. He looks up at the figure holding the apple. The sun is behind it, and he can’t see a face. In the figure’s other hand is a dagger. It’s short, silver, the blade curved and lethal. He glances between the objects. There’s a choice to be made. But he’s not the one who will make it. He looks up again. If only he could see the face.

The hand holding the apple moves away. He reaches for it again. At the last second he sees the dagger a split second before it pierces him. It hurts. It’s a cold yet hot pain he remembers well. He remembers dying. He remembers living. But the apple... The figure is gone and with it the apple. He clutches his chest and looks around. Isn’t Adam here? He’s supposed to be here. Isn’t he? That’s how he remembers it. Isn’t that how he lived?

He sees nothing. No Adam. No apple. The sunlight grows dim. His breathing is labored, the cold in his body is shutting him down. He feels himself die as the light fades to nothing. He is nothing.

He’s choking when he wakes and manages not to scream. Glancing at Adam next to him, he forces himself to take calm breaths. He doesn’t know how he didn’t wake Adam. Maybe he wasn’t flailing this time. He holds himself still until his heart isn’t pounding against his chest. The candlelight dances softly around the room. For once, Tommy’s glad Adam loves having candles lit while he sleeps. He doesn’t want to face total darkness right now.

The dreams are becoming more and more frequent. They seem to focus on particular events in his life, particular traumas, and they play out unfavorably in the dreams. Tommy is sure it’s just his mind working through those events, but he would like for it to hurry up. He’s not tired during the day, but he’s starting to become jumpy. Like he’s nervous something is about to happen. Like one of those dreams is coming true. Or perhaps he’s stuck in one.

It’s the middle of the night, just after 3 a.m. and he can’t decide if he should go back to sleep or get up. If he gets up, Adam will wake. He doesn’t want to wake Adam, even if Adam doesn’t give two figs about sleeping. But now Tommy’s wide awake and a little bored. Maybe he should wake Adam?

Adam is lying on his stomach, the bed sheets down to his waist. Tommy watches him breathe. His back rises and falls in a deep, steady rhythm. Tommy lightly runs a hand over his back and down to his waist. Adam’s skin is warm and smooth. The curve of his ass under the linen stirs Tommy. He runs his fingers under the edge of the fabric, moving them back and forth, rubbing the skin. He inches the sheet down, slowly over the curve of the muscles. The candlelight casts a soft glow over some of the exposed skin and shadow over the dip in his lower back and around the edges of his frame.

Tommy moves the sheet down further. His palm ghosts over one ass cheek, then slides down the back of a thigh. He moves carefully and leans over, touching his lips to Adam’s low back. He inhales as he leaves a trail of soft kisses across Adam’s lower back. He positions himself into kneeling, placing his hands on each side of Adam’s hips. He kisses a trail over the left cheek, then nibbles lightly. He nibbles further in, his fingers edging along and he pries Adam’s ass apart. His tongue dips in, touches him, and Adam’s breath shakes slightly. Tommy licks in gentle caresses, his tongue going in a little more each time. Adam’s hips shift slightly and he moans softly in his sleep.

The more Tommy licks, the harder he gets. Adam may be lying on his stomach, but Tommy can feel his arousal growing underneath. He slips a finger inside, stretching him open. When he adds another finger, he has Adam’s ass pried apart fully, no longer trying to let Adam sleep. Adam shifts his legs, moving them apart slightly.

“Baby,” he says in a sleepy moan.

Tommy doesn’t say anything. He moves over top of Adam, lining up their hips. His cock nudges Adam, then pushes inside. He rarely fucks Adam like this. Adam’s a natural dominator and Tommy doesn’t go against it. When he gets the chance, though, he takes it without hesitation.

He holds Adam’s hips and moves slowly. The heat and the pressure of Adam’s body around his cock make him feel weak and almost restless. He wants to go as slow as it takes the earth to circle the sun and relish every second, yet he’s impatient and eager to feel the raw release associated with topping Adam.

He takes a deep breath and lays out over top of Adam. He lets the breath out slowly as his hips move, finding a steady rhythm. Adam widens his legs more. Tommy’s hips drop and he goes in deeper. Tommy whimpers and his hands clutch Adam’s shoulders. He lays his cheek against Adam’s and their breaths merge. Their bodies become one pulsating being, light and heat snaking through them, coiling and spiking. Every thrust into Adam makes every part of Tommy throb. Despite his desire to take it slow, Tommy’s fucking Adam in earnest. His cheek stays next to Adam’s; their pants and groans blending together.

Adam lifts his hips up into Tommy. Tommy’s eyes squeeze shut as his cock goes a little deeper, and he pushes harder. His groan morphs into a yell. He knows the release is there, he can feel it, can damn near taste it. His hands grip Adam’s shoulders harder; his ankles wind around Adam’s legs. Every fiber in him is alive and shuddering. He’s on the edge but at the same time he can’t seem to reach it. He buries his face in Adam’s neck, digging his knees into the bed, and driving his hips faster.

“Good, baby. That’s good,” Adam says, his voice shaking.

He is never going to come and it frustrates him. Adam takes one of his hands and holds it tight, guiding the intention. He moves his hips in short snaps back into Tommy. Tommy can feel the orgasm rushing toward them. It bursts through them almost like an assault. Tommy yells his relief into Adam’s neck. His yell turns into a chant of Adam’s name when his ass clenches around Tommy’s cock and creates another orgasm. His fingers dig into Adam’s skin and he continues driving his hips to get every last pulse.

He finally stops moving. He feels weak and worn out and so damn satisfied. He stays draped over Adam, preferring to remain here and drunk on his god for the rest of eternity. They remain silent and wrapped in each other not just physically but mentally.

“Can’t sleep?” Adam asks.

Tommy’s laugh is weak.

 

He stares at the painting. It hasn’t turned out like he thought it would or planned. He thought he would add a glimpse of Hades in his Underworld painting. What he added was a glimpse of his parents passing through the doorway to the Elysian Fields. He hadn’t known what figures he was painting until it was done. When he realized, it startled him. He’s been staring at it for half an hour, feeling memory and time lost. It weighs heavily on him, more than it has before.                    

Not lost. Stolen. A time stolen.  

He shakes his head and puts down his brush. There’s no use in dwelling on what was or what could have been. But he can’t quiet the nagging voice telling him that he should have never been spirited away from them; he shouldn’t even be here now. Would it be better if he could return to the Elysian Fields to see them? An hour wasn’t enough. Given the situation with Hades, he knows he’ll never get another chance to see his family. Unless he marches in and doesn’t leave and lets the Underworld claim him. It’d be easy to do since he has a soul and that’s what Hades wants anyway. But then he’d be without Adam. Who is, essentially, the cause of all this.

He sets the painting aside and walks away.

 


	3. Your Love is a Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onward...

 

Tommy sits at the bar. He’s normally on the other side of the bar, working, so sitting on the opposite side as a patron feels off to him. Then again, he’s been in here as a customer before, but something is off. Cora smiles and sets down beer in front of him.

“Am I working today?” he asks.

“No,” she says with a laugh. “You wouldn’t be sitting on that side if you were working. I wouldn’t let you.”

“I guess not,” he says and sips the beer.

He looks around. The tavern is as busy as ever. It even looks the same as the last time he was in here. And that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“What time are we in?” he asks.

Cora frowns.

“Like, what year is it?” he asks.

“What’s in that beer?” she says, taking the cup and sniffing it.

“I just...” He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. He’s not sure how he’s here. This place, this time, these people, they were centuries ago. Didn’t he recently see Cora in the Underworld? What’s she doing here?

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Sure,” he says, although it’s a lie. “Have you seen Adam?”

“Who?” she asks.

“Adam,” he says. “You know, my partner.”

She gives him a blank look.

“Sorry, Tommy. I don’t know anyone named Adam,” she says. “You have a partner?”

A large body lands on the seat next to him.

“How’s it going, T?” Phil asks. He leans over the counter. “Aunt Cora.”

She pours Phil a cup and sits it in front of him. He gulps most of the beer, then sets the cup down with a decisive bang.

“What are we talking about?” he asks.

“Tommy wants to know if Adam has been around.” Cora presents it as a statement but with the hint of a question at the end.

“Who’s Adam?” Phil asks, looking at Tommy.

“I don’t think Cora ever met him,” Tommy says. “But I know I told you about him.”

Phil smiles and shakes his head.

“I told you about him one night while we were at the baths,” Tommy says. His confusion is growing and he feels the need to explain it away. “You asked me why I wasn’t interested in Lyda anymore, and I told you I’d met someone, and it was Adam.”

Phil at least makes the appearance of trying to remember what Tommy’s talking about.

“We’d had a fight, and you ragged on me about make up sex with him, and I told you he was a god,” Tommy says.

“A god?” Phil almost laughs.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, unsure. “Agapios.”

“The god of True Love?” Phil asks.

Tommy nods, although he’s wondering if he imagined Adam and everything that followed. Maybe he’s sick? Maybe his mind is all wrong?

“He...loves me and,” Tommy says, his voice getting quieter. “There was a fight, Phil. In the bath. This guy came in and tried to attack me and he stabbed you.”

Phil isn’t bothering to hide his incredulity anymore.

“Tommy, are you okay?”

Tommy looks from Phil to Cora. The concern is clear, all joking aside now. His mouth goes dry. He pushes the beer away and tries to smile.

“I think I’ve had enough,” he says.

“That’s your first,” Cora says.

“Ya know, I was at another tavern before I came in here,” Tommy says. Another lie.

“A traitor in our midst, going to other taverns,” Phil says. His laugh is more relief than actual humor.

Cora smiles and takes the cup away.

“You probably don’t need anymore tonight,” she says.

Tommy nods and tries to laugh along. His stomach is sinking like it’s full of rocks and his mind is frantically racing. What is happening?

He slides off the seat and points to the door.

“I think I’ll go home,” he says. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Good idea,” Cora says. “Get some rest.”

“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Phil says.

Tommy tries not to run out of the tavern. When he’s finally outside, he hurries to the side of the building. He glances around, making sure no one is in ear shot.

“Adam,” he says in a hiss. “Adam.”

The wind doesn’t even blow. He doesn’t hear anything other than the usual noises drifting out from inside the tavern. The light from inside the tavern barely reaches outside the windows. Tommy sees nothing but darkness.

“Adam,” he says again, turning and looking, thinking maybe Adam is there and he can’t see him. He can’t even feel him. Is he even a god now?

The shadows stay put. No one emerges. He can’t hear any living thing. He suddenly feels lost. Very lost and small.

“Adam?”

               

When Tommy opens his eyes, his vision is blurry and his head aches. Without moving, he takes in his surroundings. His heartbeat speeds up, then settles when he recognizes the bedroom, the furniture, and Adam’s clothes strewn about the room. He breathes deep, waking up, and trying to brush off the dream. It’d been so real.

“Hello, my sunshine,” Adam says, walking in. “Sleep well?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy says.

“You were sleeping pretty hard.” He sits on the bed next to Tommy. “I knocked over a vase in the sitting room, it made a loud crash, and you didn’t budge.”

Tommy rubs his face with his hands. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Do you feel okay?” Adam asks, brushing aside Tommy’s hair.

“Kinda groggy,” Tommy says. He takes Adam’s hand and kisses the palm. “I’ll be okay once I wake up all the way.”

Adam smiles. He leans down and kisses Tommy’s forehead.

“I’m going out,” he says. “Do you need anything?”

Tommy shakes his head. Adam disappears, and Tommy lies still for another half hour trying to sort through the dream.

He’s never dreamed of his family before. Not in this life anyway. He lingers on the feeling of his family and best friend being so close, his old life, yet there was a current of something dark underneath. It could have turned to a nightmare easily, and the force behind the dream wanted that to happen. He feels that if he hadn’t walked out of the tavern when he did, the dream’s atmosphere would have turned. He finally decides that getting up and moving around will shake off the lingering negative tone.

The dream makes him want to visit Cora’s tavern, even though it’s not there anymore. He goes to the location anyway. There’s an outdoor café there now, and he sits outside and orders a Greek frappe but barely touches it. He swirls the straw in the glass, melting the ice crystals faster. Why is he dreaming so much lately and why are they dark? Morpheus is the god of dreams, but he doesn’t produce nightmares. He’s more of a messenger. So where are these coming from? Is his family really reaching out to him? He can’t go to the Elysian Fields anymore to see them. Maybe this is how they’re communicating? This makes Tommy smile. Of course a dream with Phil in it would feel weird because Phil would have no clue what he’s doing in a dream yet. Of course they’d pull him back to a time when they were all physically together, before any of the events with Adam occurred. They want to see him and talk to him again. And if all he has to do is go to sleep, then he’ll sleep all day and night.

 


	4. A Picture of You in an Empty Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onward...

He stands on the edge of the cliff, confused and shivering. The wind blows off the water and his teeth chatter. Panic is making his breathing short and shallow. He has no idea how he got here.

He’d been dreaming of the tavern again. He didn’t bring up Adam this time. Neither did anyone else, as though Adam never existed in any of their lives. Then again, Adam never did exist in Cora or Phil’s life. Tommy didn’t spend any time pondering this; just drank and laughed and talked, like he used to when they were all alive. A tiny voice in the back of his consciousness mentioned over and over that the people he was with were no longer living. Each time he started to give audience to this thought, he frowned, and on cue Cora handed him another drink and Phil stared pointedly until he took a sip. The tension was palpable in those moments. When Tommy drank and smiled, Cora and Phil smiled and relaxed. Tommy made an effort to ignore that tiny voice so the atmosphere would remain easy.

He doesn’t know why he woke up. Nothing happened in the dream to jerk him awake. He just sort of shivered and when he opened his eyes, he saw that he was outside in the dark, standing on the edge of the cliff. It startled him and he nearly fell. He continued to stand still, gathering his thoughts and trying to sort them out before going back inside. He’s never sleepwalked before. He’s not concerned about getting hurt, of course, but it bothers him that he’s suddenly doing it. He doesn’t like the idea that he’s doing things unaware.

He looks at the moon. It’s full and as bright as the sun. He shakes again as the breeze rolls off the water and into him and he turns back to the house. He hopes Adam isn’t awake. He doesn’t want to explain this. He wouldn’t know how to explain it but he’s pretty sure Adam would latch on to the fact that he’s been sleeping more and more recently. He sleeps later in the morning, naps several times during the day, and goes to bed early at night. Adam hasn’t questioned him, but several times Tommy’s caught him looking at him with scrutiny.

He doesn’t feel Adam awake or aware. Not yet. Tommy goes back inside.

 

“I think you should help me with this festival,” Adam says.

Tommy’s staring at the tv but not really seeing it. Some talk show is on and Tommy wanted background noise to keep Adam from talking to him. He doesn’t want to talk to Adam. Adam is inquisitive. Adam senses things. Adam will relentlessly question him about the change in his sleeping habits. Adam will try to stop him from sleeping and, thus, from seeing his family.

“Tommy?” he asks when Tommy doesn’t respond.

Tommy turns his head and looks at him. He feels like he’s dreaming now, but he knows he’s awake. He never dreams about Adam anyway. He’s kind of tired, come to think of it.

“Do you wanna help me?” Adam asks.

Adam has been visiting a slew of festivals lately. He’s always been excited by festivals, the music and dancing and singing. When he found out Greece still held numerous festivals throughout the year, he went online and downloaded dates and information on every one he could find. He’s been attending them faithfully all over Greece. Tommy has gone to a lot with him. Adam eventually got the idea of holding one for their town to commemorate Ancient Thessaly. He’s been engrossed in planning it, arranging for music and dancing and plays and food. He’s even commissioned Mr Pagonis to display some of the gallery’s prominent items, including Tommy’s paintings. He’s like a kid at Christmas, his energy is contagious and those involved in the planning are as excited as Adam.

“What are you working on?” Tommy asks.

“The set up for the plays,” Adam says. “There is going to be one stage doing short sets of the Iliad and another doing the Odyssey.”

Since tv no longer appeals to Adam, he’s taken up reading all of the plays and poems from their century and after. Sometimes he laughs loudly at events misconstrued or blown out of proportion. Sometimes he nods his head in agreement while reading. Sometimes he mutters aloud to the writer. Tommy finds it incredibly endearing and he’ll pretend to be doing something else so that Adam won’t notice that he’s really listening for his reaction to whatever he’s reading.

When he found Thessaly was mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey by its ancient name Aeolia, he nearly flew out his chair in excitement. The Odyssey and the Iliad were still popular poems throughout the world, both still being taught after numerous centuries, and Adam was insistent they be adapted to play format and performed at the festival commemorating Thessaly. He wanted the plays to run all day from dawn to dusk. Tommy reminded him that he was working with humans and he grudgingly admitted that expecting casts to perform full plays back to back all day was unreasonable. He decided to shorten the plays to much smaller sets that would take less than an hour.  

“I think I’ll have a third stage,” Adam says. “I just don’t know what play will be on it.”

“Isn’t that going to be distracting?” Tommy asks. “Three stages, three plays, all going at the same time, over and over?”

“There will be a half a mile between each stage,” Adam says. “The stories are shortened considerably, and they’ll be repeated so that everyone will have a chance to see each one.”

Tommy nods. It still sounds exhausting for the actors, in his opinion, but they’re willing to do it and Adam is willing to pay them generously.

“And of course, there will be stages spaced out on the other side of town for music and singing,” Adam says.  

He points to the table and creates a model of the festival layout with building replicas, stages, even people to move around and place. He’s writing in a notebook and barely paying attention to Tommy.

“Maybe the music and singing could take place at night. Then they wouldn’t interfere with the plays. Then the food will be in between everything, of course. And the displays...I’m not sure...”

Tommy stands. Adam’s lost in his project now.

“Think I’ll take a nap,” he says.  

Adam doesn’t acknowledge this and Tommy goes to the bedroom and shuts the door softly.

 

“Tommy, would you like more bread?”

Tommy nods, holding out his hand for the basket his mother is passing.

He mumbles thanks through a mouth full of roasted goat. He forgot what an amazing cook she was. He reaches for more beans and spoons them onto his plate.

“Don’t eat too much,” she says. “There are figs and honey and cheese next.”

Tommy nods. He knows he’ll eat too much and he’ll eat the figs and honey and cheese as well. He can’t remember when he last had food this good that was homemade. He loves Adam, but Adam doesn’t cook. Neither does Tommy, but that’s beside the point.

“Where’s dad?” he asks.

“Down at the baths,” she says.

She begins moving the bowls and plates and glasses around on the table. She does it nonchalantly, but there is no reason for it. Tommy watches her for a second, then goes back to his plate. He hopes she won’t rearrange it while he’s still eating.  

When he looks up again, he sees his father sitting at the table across from him.

“There are bats in the barn,” he tells Tommy.

Tommy stops and stares. When did he get here? Didn’t his mother just say his dad was at the baths?

A bat flies by overhead. Tommy notices that it’s purple.

“See?” his dad says.

Tommy sets his fork down. They never had a barn.

He can see his mother in the kitchen now. When did she get up? He looks back at his father.

“How’s Adam?” he asks.

Tommy blinks. He didn’t realize he could talk about Adam in this dream. He’s not allowed to even think about Adam when he’s at the tavern.

“Fine,” he says. “He’s putting together a festival, actually.”

“Oh that’s exciting,” his mom says.

“Yeah, he’s having fun,” Tommy says.

Did he ever tell them about Adam?

“Damn shame about all that,” his dad says.

Tommy frowns. “Shame about what?”

“Oh you know,” his mother says. She’s seated at the table again.

Tommy’s mind tries to work out what they’re talking about. He hears a loon wailing outside. It sounds out of place and strange. He gets up and walks to the window. It’s dark out. It wasn’t dark when the dream started, but it is pitch black now. Not even the moon is shining. He hears the bird again, distant and eerie, calling for its mate who doesn’t answer.

When he turns back the room is empty and the table cleared. He looks around but he doesn’t see or even hear his parents anywhere inside the house. He goes back to the table and sits cautiously. He doesn’t like how this dream is turning out and he’s ready to go. As soon as the thought enters his mind he opens his eyes.

“Tommy, do you want to come with me to the gallery?”

Adam stops at the foot of the bed and gives him an odd smile.

“Sleeping again?”

Tommy sits up. “I just had my eyes closed. That’s all.”

It’s obvious that Adam doesn’t believe him. He can’t believe he’s afraid of being scolded for napping.

“So what, it was just a nap, Adam,” he says. “That’s all. Big deal.”

Adam’s demeanor stiffens, but his voice remains light.

“It’s okay,” he says. “There’s nothing that says you can’t take a nap if you feel like it.”

He knows by the tone paired with the demeanor that it is not okay. Adam just doesn’t feel like fighting especially when he’s not entirely sure what he’s fighting over. Tommy feels bad for snapping at him but, damn it, sleeping is the only way he gets to talk to his family. Even if the dreams take on weird vibes, at least he gets to see them.  

“I’m going to the gallery,” Adam says and disappears.

Tommy flings himself back onto the bed. He’s frustrated and now he has to soothe a pissed off Adam. Why hasn’t he told Adam about the dreams?

_Because he would tell you this is unnatural_ , he thinks. _That Morpheus doesn’t work this way. That if one could visit their dead while sleeping, then no one would ever stay awake._

They’re his dreams, his family, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to see them. Maybe he should cut back on the naps, but he won’t give up all of them. It’s his family, he’ll see them if he wants.  Feeling determined, he goes to the gallery to smooth things over with Adam.

He slips up behind Adam who is in the back room taking inventory of items Mr Pagonis has set aside for the festival.

“You know you can’t sneak up on me,” Adam says without turning around. “Not you.”

Tommy wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, pressing his cheek against Adam’s back.

“I didn’t mean to get snarky,” he says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adam says, rubbing Tommy’s arm. “I am a little concerned that something is wrong, though.”

Tommy doesn’t know why he wavers before he replies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

_Is_ something wrong?  

Adam turns to face him and pulls him close. His eyes widen in mock surprise when Tommy motions the door locked.

“And what is on your mind?” Adam asks.

“Well you probably wanna make sure everything is fine,” Tommy says.

Adam runs his hands down Tommy’s back and squeezes his ass. He leans down, touching his nose to Tommy’s cheek and breathing deeply.

“Everything definitely feels fine,” he says.

“Just fine?” Tommy asks with a smirk.

Adam doesn’t verbally answer; he licks into Tommy’s mouth and lifts him off the floor, wrapping his legs around his waist. He lays Tommy on his back and takes his time removing his clothes, smiling at Tommy’s impatient huffs. When he’s finally inside Tommy he stills. Tommy waits, then rocks his hips to get Adam moving.

“Adam,” Tommy says, and Adam places a finger over his lips.

“Don’t move,” he says in a whisper. “Just feel.”

Tommy lies still wondering what weird sex game this is and then he feels it. Warmth and pressure are buzzing inside and hovering close to where he and Adam are joined. The less he moves, the more intense it feels, the larger it grows. Adam’s eyes are focused on him. The warmth becomes hot to almost raging, and his legs twitch, his toes tingle. His fingers dig into Adam’s muscles. His cock is swollen and aching and it feels so amazing he doesn’t even want relief. The slight movement of his fingers, however, causes the intensity to ebb, so Tommy concentrates on holding perfectly still and letting it have him. The pressure builds again. It’s heavy and simultaneously weighing on him and trying to break out of him. The heat physically vibrates and he holds his breath. He holds himself still – oh so still.

When he comes, it tears silently through and out of him. He shakes all over, his back rolling up from the floor into Adam and his legs widening. He feels Adam coming in him, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. He grips Tommy tightly as he trembles. If Tommy were still human, there would be bruises.

Tommy takes a shuddering breath, still gripping Adam. “Do it again.”

               

“I think my bones melted,” Tommy says.

Adam laughs and pulls him closer. Tommy’s back is huddled into Adam’s chest and he feels tired even though he didn’t move.

“So we’re agreed that everything is fine,” he states.

He doesn’t notice Adam’s hesitation when he replies, “Yes, everything is fine.”

 


	5. Back to the End of Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onward...

“There’s a moment when I look at you and no speech is left in me,” Adam says.

Tommy sits at his feet with his arms hooked loosely around Adam’s legs, head resting on his knee. Adam cards his fingers through Tommy’s hair. Tommy closes his eyes.

“My tongue breaks then fire races under my skin and I tremble and I grow pale for I am dying of such love,” he reads. “Or so it seems to me.”

Tommy lets the poem settle over him. Sappho’s words in Adam’s voice with Adam’s resolve daze him. Adam continues to stroke his hair and they remain silent. He’d wanted Tommy’s opinion on poetry readings for his festival and Tommy informed him that he was cramming too much into one festival. Adam sat him down to hear some of it.

Tommy could take or leave poetry. The verses tend to go by him without any impact or meaning. Maybe it takes the right voice, the right experience to make the verses live in a person. He didn’t know that you could actually feel poetry. And feel it deeply like the words were stolen right out of you and spoken back to you in such a way that your world tilts with emotion. Like now.

He doesn’t offer an opinion or thoughts on the poem. He doesn’t need to. Adam feels everything Tommy feels and he can read Tommy easily. They sit in silence, each hyper aware of their bond in the moment.

 

“So how are things with Adam?” Cora asks.

Tommy nearly chokes on his drink. She’s never asked about Adam. He wasn’t sure she believed that he existed, at least as an active part of Tommy’s life.

He sets his cup down carefully.

“Fine,” he says. It’s a cautious answer. He’s doesn’t know what to expect.

She nods, wiping the counter.

“Shame, though,” she says.

Didn’t his parents say the same thing?

“What is?”

“You know.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “And I wish someone would just say it. Shame about what?”

She stops and looks him in the eyes.

“That he took you from us. That we didn’t know what had happened to you.”

Oh. That.

“I mean, it’s basically kidnaping, Tommy.”

“I wouldn’t call it kidnaping,” he says.

“Well it was,” she says, interrupting. “He snatched you away from your family, your friends, your life. Didn’t tell anyone what was going on, what was happening. He’s a god, he could’ve let us know with a snap of his fingers. But he didn’t.”

She turns her back and Tommy lets her words sink in. She’s not entirely wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am. I didn’t know what he was planning until it was happening.”

“See?” she says, turning back. “He even planned to kidnap you. That’s low.”

“Wait,” Tommy says. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

“What wasn’t like what?” Phil asks, appearing on the stool next to him.

Tommy looks at him. Two against one. He’s not sure he can win this argument.

“Tommy says Adam didn’t kidnap him,” Cora says.

Phil laughs. “But that’s what he did.”

He slaps Tommy on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, T,” he says. “You’re here now. We’re here. Everything’s back to normal.”

_Normal_ , he thinks. It doesn’t quite feel normal.

“You don’t know the whole story,” Tommy says. “It wasn’t at all like you think.”

Phil smiles. It’s a hard smile and it makes Tommy pause. Something is off here. He’s not sure he likes these dreams anymore.

“Wanna help me tonight with the festival?” Cora asks.

Festival. Adam is putting together a festival. In the real world. This world isn’t real. Right? It’s a dream.

He slides off the stool, watching Cora and Phil.

“I’m gonna go home,” he says.

He’s not sure which home he means – to his parents or to Adam.

He walks out of the tavern, trying not to run, and breathes a sigh of relief once he’s outside.

Do his parents think the same? That Adam kidnapped him? That he was held against his will all this time? Feeling defensive of Adam, he decides to go to his parents’ house. No sooner does he think it then he’s standing in the living room. His parents are sitting by the fireplace.

“Adam did not kidnap me,” he says.

His parents look up, smiling.

“Why would you say that?” his mother asks.

“Isn’t that what everyone thinks?” he asks.

His father shakes his head. “No.”

Tommy doesn’t know what to say now. He’s geared up for some sort of argument. He’s ready to defend Adam. His parents’ response deflates him like a balloon. What the hell is Cora and Phil’s problem?

 “Sit,” his father says.

Tommy sits on the floor between them. He looks at both of them. His dad is writing on a scroll, something he did every evening to record all the events from work. His mother is mending a shirt. They don’t look at him. He eyes them with suspicion. These dreams they use to visit him feel less and less comfortable. Are they really here? He looks at the fire.

“Tell me about the time I set the floor on fire trying to start the fireplace for the first time alone,” he says, glancing between them.

His parents’ movements freeze, then resume as though he hadn’t spoken. It’s subtle and would’ve been imperceptible if he hadn’t been watching them. But he did see it and his heart jumps.

“Who are you?” he asks.

His dad smiles, putting down the scroll, staring across the room. “Oh I remember it. You were just a kid and you wanted to- “

“It never happened,” Tommy says.

His father stopped talking, the smile disappearing. He sits motionless, staring at nothing on the other side of the room. Tommy can hear the wind outside. Chills start to creep over him. He looks to his “mom.” She’s frowning at the shirt in her hand.

“What is this?” Tommy asks.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go to bed,” his mother says, smiling again. “You’re tired.”

Tommy shakes his head.

“I’m already asleep,” he says. “That’s why I’m here.”

“It’s been a long day,” she says, as though he hasn’t spoken. “Things will better when you stay.”

“Stay?” he asks.

“Sleep,” she says. “When you sleep. Sleep makes everything better.”

He hears a whisper just ahead of him and he moves his head to look down the hallway. It’s dark. A chilly breeze slides by him. The whisper is calling his name. He looks back to find his parents gone; he’s alone. The air in the room is cold and heavy and oppressive. The fire cracks and pops, but there’s no heat emanating. The whisper calls again. He stands and walks down the dark hallway. The voice stops once he reaches his bedroom. It’s empty and dark and cold. He sits on the bed and waits.

               


	6. Not Asleep, Not Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onward...

Adam stands over him, watching him. He’s looking for any sign of movement, a twitch, a sigh, anything. Tommy lies as still as stone. His blond hair is spread over his forehead and pillow. His face pale and soft, eyelashes dark and long fan out underneath his eyes making him look doll like. His chest barely moves as he breathes so deep is his sleep. Adam had a feeling something like this was coming.

Tommy’s sleeping habit picked up recently. He began going to bed earlier at night and sleeping later in the mornings. Adam couldn’t guess why and when he tried to broach the subject, Tommy got defensive and shut down any communication. Then he started taking naps regularly, sometimes three a day. Tommy never seemed tired so the increased sleeping was confusing and bothersome. Was he sick? Gods couldn’t get sick, not that Adam had heard, but anything was possible. One night, Adam rolled over and heard Tommy mumbling. He said the word “mom” and pieces started to fit together for Adam - he was dreaming of his family. He was trying to have the best of both worlds, Adam and his family. Adam couldn’t fault him for that. So he kept quiet. Problem was that souls weren’t allowed to roam outside of Hades, much less visit the living in dreams. That was an ability reserved for the gods only and only those given permission. So who was visiting Tommy?

Adam knew Morpheus was the god of dreams, but Morpheus was withdrawn. He didn’t interact with others much. How would he have targeted Tommy? And why? Adam didn’t know how to bring this up to Tommy. He didn’t want to take away the hope that he was seeing his family. He wanted to figure out what was going on before he sat Tommy down to talk. But he’d waited too long and whatever it was in Tommy’s dreams caught him. Adam didn’t know if Tommy could get out. Why was Tommy always causing so much trouble?

“Have you figured out what happened?”

He turns to see Aphrodite behind him. She’s looking at Tommy, then to Adam. He can tell she’s worried. Aphrodite adores Tommy. He looks back at Tommy.

“Morpheus, I guess,” he says.

“Morpheus doesn’t work this way,” she says, pointing out what he already knows. “He sends messages and omens. He helps people. He doesn’t create alternate dimensions and trap people.”

“Tommy’s a god,” Adam says flatly. “He’s not a person anymore.” Why is she interfering?

“What I mean is that Morpheus doesn’t trap souls,” she says. “And Tommy has a soul, god or not.”

Adam sighs and bites his tongue. He doesn’t need a recap of Tommy’s immortality.

_Meddler_ , he thinks.

“Someone else is there,” she says suddenly. “I see their shadow.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks. “What do you see? How?”

“I can see your bond,” she says. “And there is something in there that doesn’t belong. It’s like a shadow or dark smear.”

He stares at her.

“How can you see the bond between him and me?” Adam asks. “It goes deeper than sex or flings or spells you cast. It’s not superficial.”

“I helped reform it. You two wouldn’t have been able to get away from Tartarus without that bond or without my help. So there’s your superficial spell, Agapios. Don’t be an ass.”

He feels his antagonism deflate. He doesn’t usually lash out at others. Probably just the stress of the situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“I know you’re worried but I’m not an enemy,” she says.

“I should’ve risked upsetting him,” Adam says. “I knew he was sleeping too much. I think he was sleepwalking, too. But when I would hint that he was taking a lot of naps he got angry, so I backed off. I should’ve insisted that he stop or listen to my concerns.”

“I don’t think insisting would’ve worked with him,” she says. “He’s kind of headstrong.”

Adam almost laughs. Tommy is definitely headstrong.

“I came in earlier and saw he was napping again, but this time was different. He seemed stiller, like he’s not really there. He’s trapped somewhere and I don’t know how to find him or get him back.”

“Figuring out who is behind it will go a long way,” she says, and Adam is well aware of that but he keeps his mouth shut. He reminds himself that Aphrodite is just trying to help and be supportive.

“So if it’s not Morpheus, then who else could it be?” Adam asks. “Who else is involved in the dream world?”

“There’s his brother, Phobetor, god of nightmares,” she says. “Has Tommy’s sleep been violent or fitful?”

“No,” Adam says. “He’s pretty quiet. Sometimes he mumbles, but that’s it.”

“Ikelos can make dreams realistic,” she says, mentioning another of Morpheus’ brothers. “He could be behind it since the dreams were alluring enough to keep Tommy sleeping.”

“There’s also Phantasus,” Adam says. “The third brother. And he creates illusions and fantasy dreams, which would definitely draw Tommy in. That would draw anybody in. He’s more diabolical than the rest of that family.” Adam sighs and closes his eyes. “And he has no form. Fuck.”

“Okay, why would Phantasus do this in the first place?” she asks, trying to move Adam’s thought process along and off the fact that who they’re looking for has no shape. “What would he care about Tommy?”

Adam shakes his head. “He wouldn’t. But he could be commissioned.”

“That’s a possibility,” she says. “A lot of gods do that, particularly when they want another in their debt.  Now who would hire Phantasus and why?”

Adam has no idea at the moment. Not even one hint.

“Can you tell who it is you see?” he asks. His tone is almost pleading. “Is it Phantasus? Or someone else, the person who hired him, maybe?”

She looks hard at Tommy, then shakes her head. “I can’t, I’m sorry. The identity is well masked.”

Adam sighs. “All I know to do is go to Morpheus. Maybe he’ll know or at least tell me how to find out.”

“I’ll stay with Tommy and keep an eye on him,” she says.

Adam nods his thanks. At least he won’t have to worry about what’s going on here while he’s away. He looks at Tommy one last time, hoping for quick answers and an even quicker solution.

He arrives in the Dream World and stands still to get his bearings. The world is dim and vast, seemingly endless. Colors and shadows and vapor swirl and blend, dissipate and reform. While interesting, it’s disorienting. Then again, dreams have a habit of being perplexing, so it’s only fitting that their dwelling is the same.

“What brings Zeus’ Heart to this realm?” a voice asks.

Morpheus steps out of the mist, approaching Adam with reservation.

“You have someone who belongs to me,” Adam says.

“This world does not hold anyone, human or god,” Morpheus says. “We hold no one.”

“Nevertheless, your _world_ has trapped someone who means a great deal to me,” Adam says. “And I’d like him released.”

“Perhaps one of the Oneroi has captured your friend,” Morpheus says, referring to his brothers by their collective name. “But he would not be held here. He couldn’t be. There is not enough substance here to hold anything captive.”

“Then where?” Adam asks.

Morpheus shrugs.

“I know you’re protective of your family,” Adam says, trying not to yell. “But my love is in danger. He’s been sleeping a lot and now he won’t wake up. I just want him back. That’s all.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Morpheus says. “The Oneroi won’t harm him. He’ll return.”

“I can’t put my faith in that,” Adam says. “The Oneroi have ties with Death. I can’t assume Tommy will be fine on his own. They shouldn’t have him anyway.”

“I can’t help you,” Morpheus says.

“Bullshit,” Adam shouts.

Morpheus narrows his eyes and tilts his head.

“There is something attached to you,” he says. “It has nothing to do with this world. Avtio.”

He vanishes and Adam is left not only angry but confused by his statement. What the hell has seeped into Tommy and his bond? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 7 won't be up until after New Year's. Hope everyone has a great holiday!


	7. Always There to Haunt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onward....

When he returns, he asks Aphrodite to leave. No, he doesn’t have any answers, he wants to be alone with Tommy, he will call her when there is anything new to tell. Once she’s gone, he stands next to the bed and looks down at Tommy. He hasn’t moved a muscle. He still doesn’t appear to be breathing, but if Adam looks closely enough he can see slight movement in his chest.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to ask Zeus because he’s always asking Zeus. For whatever predicament Tommy gets them into, one of them is always asking Zeus for the solution.

 _Is he really worth all this trouble?_ his mind asks.

 _Of course_ , he answers.

_Are you sure?_

_Maybe._

_Seems like at every turn he’s running rampant, doing what he pleases, defying you, getting you kidnaped, and now he’s gotten himself lost._

_It’s not his fault._

_No?_

_I don’t know._

_You can’t even go to Zeus anymore because of him. Before he came along, you didn’t need to go to anyone about anything. You were strong on your own, in your own right._

Adam looks around as his mind continues its belligerent speech.

_You were powerful, intimidating, desired. People sought you out. They fought over you. Now look at you. No one seeks you. No one knows you. Look at where you are. Dragged down to a human level, playing house, forced to indulge this infant god’s ridiculous whims._

“It really isn’t fair,” Adam agrees. “Things aren’t the same at all.” He looks back at Tommy. “Because of you.”

_You shouldn’t have made him. You’d be better off without him._

_Maybe._

_He’s already lost, just let him go._

_It would be less trouble._

_It would be no trouble. You’d be trouble free. Carefree, like you used to be until that night at the Dionysus festival. You probably wouldn’t have caught sight of him if he hadn’t gone to the bonfire to put that statue in as an offering. You would’ve missed him entirely, and then none of the problems you’ve had since would’ve happened._

Adam sits next to Tommy, contemplating what his existence would’ve been like from that night forward had he not pursued his human. What if he had refused to go along with any of it?  He certainly wouldn’t be in this mess. Again.

 _Is this going to be a regular thing?_ he wonders. _Tommy always getting stuck in some ridiculous situation and me having to find a way to pull him out?_

_It’s already a regular thing._

“I can’t give him up,” Adam says. “He’s mine. I fought for him.”

_And for what? He blames you for missing his mortal life. He blames you for his immortality. He threw it in your face and told you he never asked for it. He doesn’t want to be here, it’s obvious. He doesn’t appreciate anything you’ve done, just whines about his family. Well let him go. He wants to be there so bad, send him there._

_I can’t..._

Can he?

 _He’s already halfway there,_ his mind reasons. _He’s not even trying to come back to you._

Adam mechanically reaches out his hand. He feels himself slipping into a daze as it wraps around Tommy’s throat. He squeezes.

_It’s better this way._

 

Tommy sits on the bed in his room, or what is supposed to be his room but is really a dream manifestation. He’s been patiently waiting but he has no idea for what. He’s sure now that his family had nothing to do with any of the dreams, but he doesn’t know why they’ve been carried this far. Why is he stuck here? Why was he drawn here in the first place? He sees a shadow darker than the rest form in the corner of the room. It moves toward him and when it slides into the dim light, Tommy sees his friend. Supposedly his friend.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Phil says amiably.

“Yes,” Tommy says.

Phil smiles and neither speak. It’s a strange, apprehensive silence, similar to the tension he felt in his dreams about Cora’s tavern. Tommy gets the feeling that something is supposed to happen, something he probably will not like. He’s not sure exactly who he is facing at the moment.

“What’s this about?” Tommy asks. He tries to sound casual, like he’s not really sitting on pins and needles waiting for the worst to happen.

Phil shrugs. “You were taken from us, so we took you back.”

“That’s absurd,” Tommy says. “You’re all in the Elysian Fields. It’s paradise, eternal happiness, you miss no one there. You hold no grudges. You also don’t come and go as you please. Hades wouldn’t allow it.”

Phil still smiles. “We’ve been visiting you daily in your dreams, so obviously we do come and go as we please.”

“No, that wasn’t you,” Tommy says. “Or not really Phil. I don’t know who you are.”

Phil drops his head back and lets out a loud frustrated sigh at the ceiling.

“What is this?” Tommy asks. “Did Hades orchestrate this? He still wants my soul?”

Phil laughs. “Did Hades do this? He’s too insipid to come up with this. Someone who actually loves you is responsible for this.”

“Who?” Tommy asks. Is the answer really so fast coming?

Phil grins. “You were stolen from someone long ago and not just your family. That someone has been waiting patiently to get you back.”

Tommy frowns. He can’t think of anyone save his family and Adam that love him enough to go to lengths like this. He opens his mouth to speak, to see if he can coerce more information from “Phil” when his airway is cut off. He feels pressure in his neck like his throat is collapsing on itself. His hands go to his neck instinctively and he starts to struggle. Still smiling, Phil steps closer and kneels down.

“Oh, looks like Adam has had enough,” Phil says.

Tommy shakes his head, clawing at his neck for air that can’t get in. He can’t die. He’s a god.

“Gods can kill gods,” Phil says. “Didn’t Adam tell you that?”

Tommy is suddenly afraid. He can’t get out of here and he can’t fight whatever is happening to his physical body. And the thing in front of him is not his friend.

“Don’t be scared,” Phil says. “Adam’s realized that you are more trouble than you’re worth. He’s been convinced that he shouldn’t have followed you from the festival all those centuries ago. That night is what led to this.”

Something whispers in Tommy’s ear. It sounds like it’s speaking into his brain but then merges with it as if it were his own thoughts.

_He should’ve left you alone. You belonged with your family, with your friends. If he’d left you alone you never would have been hunted, never would’ve been taken away from your only life. You would’ve lived peacefully, gotten married, had children like you were supposed to. He shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have been his._

But they were Fated. Adam couldn’t have walked away from that and neither could Tommy.

_He made you immortal and you didn’t want it._

_I didn’t want to die._

_He forced you and that’s not love._

_He saved me._

_He stole you._

_No._

_He’s killing you. Again._

The pain increases as his throat collapses inside, his eyes water, and his heart thuds in panic. He focuses on one thing, one word, and he pushes it out as hard as he can - **ADAM**.

                               

His name rips through his mind like lightening, tearing into his trance and stabbing his consciousness. Adam releases the pressure on Tommy’s neck, gasping at the pain in his head. Something lifts from his head, as though he’d been shrouded in a fog, and his mind clears. He sees his hand around Tommy’s neck and realizes what he’s doing. He jerks away, watching his hand print fade from pale skin. Sick, he stands and back away. He’d been hurting Tommy. And Tommy had reached him. Adam feels hope and horror at the same time. What made him do that? There was no one here. He’d been trying to reason out what had happened and how to get to Tommy when he’d slipped into a thought pattern that wasn’t normal for him, dark and negative and hateful. He sucks in a breath when he realizes. Only one entity could talk someone into such a thing. Three entities, to be exact.

“Furies,” he says aloud. 


	8. Let Me Out of This Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onward

Of course, the Furies. Who else could slip in unnoticed and delude a mind, convince it of unfounded ideas and make it react. Adam has never liked the Furies and he doesn’t know why Zeus hasn’t destroyed them. Even though they’re the deliverers of justice, they’re also spiteful, hateful, and cause trouble for their own amusement. No wonder neither he nor Tommy knew what was happening. They were stealthy bitches. They only need your mind to control how you think, feel, and behave. If they could convince Adam to destroy Tommy, then they could certainly manipulate, then trap Tommy in his own mind.

“That’s where you are,” Adam says. “In your own mind.”

He sits next to Tommy again and checks his neck. The mark is gone, Tommy’s throat has healed itself, and he’s breathing. Shallow, but breathing.

He cups Tommy’s face and leans down, looking closely for any sign of outward awareness. There is none. And Adam has no idea how to reach him. Tommy is the only one who can release himself from this. He rests his forehead against Tommy’s and closes his eyes. He focuses on Tommy, on where he might be inside, and sends a steady stream of thought, hoping it will eventually find him and guide him out.

“Anikete edo,” he whispers. (You belong here.)

 

Tommy gulps in air when his throat is released. He gasps and swallows, his eyes still watering. He nearly falls over on the bed. His chest hurts and he forces himself to be still so he can stop panicking and regroup his mind. “Phil” is gone. His throat burns but he can feel it healing. Adam had almost killed him. What could have made him do such a thing? Who could have talked him into it? Whoever or whatever it is must have something to do with Tommy being lured here and trapped. But who? And why?

Tommy lived a quiet, normal life until Adam came along. Then things got wild but they didn’t really offend anyone other than Hera. And maybe Hades. He can think of no one else who would go to these lengths. Adam didn’t steal Tommy from anyone. His family knew that. They were even excited when they found out Tommy was a god. So who could this be?

Tommy coughs and takes a deep breath. His throat is healed. He reached Adam so he knows that wherever he is it’s not impenetrable. There is a way out. He just has to figure out what it is. And to do that, he has to figure out where he is exactly. And why. And who brought him. The questions swirl around his mind again and he almost weeps. He just wants to go home and be left alone.

_You are home._

_No, I’m not._

_You are where you belong._

_I don’t belong here anymore._

_You belong here._

_I can’t stay here._

_You will stay here._

He senses another presence, but he can’t see anyone. He has a feeling he’s on the verge of figure it all out and he’s anxious. If he can figure out who’s behind this, then maybe he can figure out how to get back. But who would care enough about him to set all this up?

He stands. He’s sick of confusion. He’s tired of being shuffled along his dreams like leaf in the wind. So far he’s been letting everything happen to him. It’s time that stopped. If he’s going to get out, he has to get control.

“I will not stay,” he says.

“You have no choice,” a voice says sharply. It’s a female voice. And it’s familiar. It’s been centuries since he’s heard it, but he has no doubt to whom it belongs.

“What the fuck?” he says softly, shock bleeding into his tone. “Lyda?”

She appears before him in a flash. She looks different, otherworldly and wild, but he can still see the girl he courted before he found Adam. His eyes widen. She’s the cause of this?

“That was my earthly name,” she says. “The name you knew. You finally remembered me.”

He’s so stunned he’s at a loss for words. All his determination to blow through this place and get out falters as he stares at her.

She laughs. “You look confused.”

 _Duh_.

“Did you do all this?” he says, shaking his head.

“You never knew who I really was,” she says.

He stares at her. What’s he supposed to say?

“After you met Adam you forgot me entirely,” she says.

“This isn’t possible,” he says. “How are you here?”

“I am Erinyes,” she says.

“You’re one of the Furies?” he’s shocked and confused and he can’t think of anything to say except the obvious.

“I fell for you when I saw you,” she says. “I took a human form so I could meet you. A lot of gods did that. It was fairly easy to attract your attention. Usually is with guys. You didn’t care much for traditional romance, I could tell, but you tried and it was cute and awkward and I loved you for it. I was prepared to give up my immortality to live with you. And then he came along.”

“I don’t get it,” he says. “I wasn’t anything special, just a scrawny kid. And it was ages ago, there’s no reason for all this.”

“There’s every reason for all this,” she says. “You were mine. You were supposed to stay with me. Not run off with him.”

“He and I were Fated,” he says. “Surely you knew that.”

“I saw you first,” she shouts.

“You and I weren’t really dating,” he says, trying to stay calm.

She glares at him. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

“What’s your actual name?” he asks.

“Megaera,” she says and the composure in her voice is false. Her anger is underneath and he’s not sure how he’s going to avoid it.

 _The fury of the jealous?_ he thinks. _That’s just fucking great._

She smirks. Shit, he forgot Furies had access to minds.

He holds up his hands in an attempt to keep the situation peaceful. “I did like you, that’s true. But Adam and I were bound by the Fates. That overrides any other relationship I might have had at that time. You know that. You can’t go against the Fates.”

There is an almost imperceptible flash in her eye and he can feel pressure in the air. He’s not calming her at all. If he doesn’t watch his step she’ll obliterate him.

“The Furies are harbingers of justice,” he says. “You don’t judge without a trial. You don’t punish the innocent.”

“You’re not innocent,” she shouts. “You forgot me!”

“I didn’t,” he says, trying not to panic. “I just fell for someone else.”

She points a finger at him and he knows she’s about to strike.

“There’s been no trial,” he says quickly. “Furies don’t cast judgement without a trial.”

“Things change,” she says flatly. “I can do what I want.”

“I want to talk with your sisters,” he says. “I want them here.”

He’s not really sure he wants all three Furies there but the other two are his best chance at stopping Lyda. Furies may be vicious, but they tend to abide procedure when it comes to mandating penalties. And no way is Tommy guilty of anything. He just has to convince them of it.

“I want the Furies,” he states.

Before Lyda can reply, her sisters arrive, standing next to her and staring him down.

“Called before a god,” says Alecto.

“To judge a god,” says Tisiphone.

Tommy swallows. Together the three are bathed in red. They’re stern and intimidating and he feels like he just fucked up.

“With all due respect, ladies,” he says. “Lyda has made a mistake.”

They stare at him. He realizes they don’t know who “Lyda” is.

“Megaera,” he says. “I mean, Megaera.”

“You accuse an Erinys?” Tisiphone asks. “Penalty for false accusation of an Erinys is death, god or not.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to be standing here.

“She falsely represented herself as human to me,” he says. “Is that normal for the forerunners of justice?”

Alecto narrows her eyes and looks over at Lyda.

“Impersonating humans?” she asks. “To what end?”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Lyda says, but she can’t meet her sister’s eyes.

“She deceived me so I would eventually marry her. I didn’t know she wasn’t human. She presented herself human and I instigated a relationship under false pretenses. And she got mad when I didn’t love her. How could I when I didn’t know her?”

“How long did this last?” Tisiphone asks.

“Only a few months,” he says. “I liked her, sure, but I fell in love with another.”

“Agapios,” Alecto says.

“Yes,” Tommy replies quickly.

“The Fated,” Alecto says. “Megaera wouldn’t have known that you were Fated. No one knew who Agapios’ human was, not even the god himself.”

“True,” he says. “I get that. But she found out. And still came after me centuries later. She sent dreams to imitate my family, my former life, to turn me against Adam. Adam almost killed me! She lured me away and trapped me here. She planned this. This is such a soap opera it’s ridiculous.”

“A what?” Tisiphone asks.

“It’s unnecessary drama,” he says. “And I’ve been taken away from Adam, I’m being held prisoner. You don’t imprison people in their own minds without cause. And she’s had no cause other than jealousy.”

“She is the representative of the jealous,” Alecto reminds him.

Tommy bites his lip. Well what the hell does he say to that.

“For herself?” he asks. “She couldn’t be judge and executioner for her own jealousy, can she? Wouldn’t she need her sisters?”

Alecto lifts her chin, looking down on him. “Yes. You make a fair point.”

He inwardly breathes a sigh of relief.

“I never intended to hurt her,” he says. “I wasn’t aware she even held feelings for me then let alone centuries later. How could I? I didn’t even know she wasn’t human. The Fates had something else planned for me. Going against Fate is almost impossible.”

Alecto and Tisiphone turn their backs on him when he stops talking. They’re silent. Lyda shakes her head, then looks up at her sisters.

“You nearly caused the unjust death of a god?” Alecto asks her. “That cannot go unpunished.”

“Agapios stole him,” she says quietly to them.

“What is Fated cannot be stolen,” Alecto states.

More heavy silence. Tommy can hear his own heartbeat.

Alecto and Tisiphone turn back to him.

“We have reached judgement on you, god of Self-Will,” Alecto says.

Tommy finds himself holding his breath.

“Innocent,” Tisiphone declares.

He releases the breath he was holding, relieved, his muscles aching as they relax. He hears a whisper above him, light and familiar and comforting. The Furies glance upward at it.

“Anikete edo.” (You belong here.) 

It’s Adam’s voice and Tommy smiles and damn near weeps in relief. If he can hear Adam, then the way back has been opened for him.

A deep shout of rage erupts as Lyda holds out her hands to him. She starts across the room, energy forming at her finger tips. Alecto and Tisiphone join hands, blocking Lyda and her power, forming a bubble around her. The two look completely unaffected and almost bored. Lyda twists in her bubble, feet off the ground, her rage controlling her. This is how Tommy always envisioned the Furies. She glares at him, trying in vain to force her storm through to him.

“Megaera, for attempting to end the immortality of a god unjustly,” Alecto and Tisiphone say in unison. “You are guilty.”

The floor underneath Lyda’s suspended feet opens and lava boils up. A wave of it reaches up as though it’s alive and wraps around her feet. Lyda’s focus shifts from Tommy to what’s happening beneath her. She howls and begs her sisters for mercy. There is none as Alecto and Tisiphone stare coldly ahead. The lava burns up her legs and through her torso, pulling her down into the pit. Tommy watches in horror. He didn’t want that for her. For anyone. The pit closes, the floor returns, and it’s quiet again.

“She is contained,” Alecto says.

“She’s dead,” he says, gasping.

“Either way, justice was served,” Tisiphone says.

“Doesn’t this unbalance justice?” he asks. “Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?”

“There are multiple Erinyes,” they both say.

He didn’t know that. He wonders if anyone knows that.

Tommy doesn’t say anything more. The Furies are not looking for accolades or idle chit chat, and he’s more than ready to go. Wind blows straight into his face and he closes his eyes against it. Soon it encompasses his entire body and Adam’s voice becomes louder, clearer. When the wind recedes, he opens his eyes. Adam’s forehead is pressed to his, his eyes closed. Tommy kisses him. Adam makes a noise of surprise but returns the kiss.

“You’re back,” he says. Tommy can see tears in his eyes.

Tommy nods. He puts his arms around Adam and hugs him close.

“Will you tell me?” Adam asks.

He nods again. “In a while.”

“Too tired?” Adam asks.

“A little,” Tommy says, then laughs. “But I’m never sleeping again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left!


	9. I Want You to Take Me Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end.

He watches the snow fall. It’s bright and fluffy. It makes everything so quiet and still. Tommy likes that. He doesn’t like the cold much, but he likes the silence the snow creates. It muffles life’s noises. It covers every available surface and hides imperfections, at least for a little while, making everything serene. He looks up at the gray sky, the ice crystals gently hitting his face.

“I thought you might be out here,” Adam says. He stands behind Tommy.

“It’s peaceful,” he says.

He turns and gives Adam a smile but Adam’s not looking at him. In fact, Adam has been fairly distant lately. It’s been a week since the incident with the Furies. Tommy told him everything that had happened - the dreams, Lyda, the judgements, everything. Adam absorbed all the details but remained quiet. He never offered a thought, an opinion, nothing on the matter.

Tommy reaches out a hand for him, tugs on his shirt. Adam moves closer and puts his arms around him. Tommy presses close to him. Something is off, but he doesn’t know what. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of the answer. What if Adam is leaving? What if he’s decided Tommy’s not worth it anymore? Or he doesn’t want to be tied down forever? Just because they’re Fated doesn’t mean they have to stay together.

“How’s your festival coming?” Tommy asks.

“Fine,” Adam says, absently.

Heart thudding, he swallows and says, “Tell me what’s wrong. Just get it over with. What is it?”

Adam finally looks at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been different this week,” Tommy says. “You’re standoffish, like you don’t want to be near me. You hardly touch me unless I make you. You’ve been treating me like a stranger.”

“That’s not true,” Adam says, but he doesn’t sound sure.

Tommy loosens his hold and backs away.

“Did I do something?” he asks quietly. “Are you mad?”

Adam pulls him close again and Tommy clings to him.

“No, I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything, agapi mou,” he says. (my love)

“What’s happening with us?” Tommy asks. “Tell me, please.”

Adam doesn’t speak right away and Tommy is holding back an emotional breakdown with so much effort it hurts. He wonders if he should beg Adam to stay.  He’s never begged anyone for anything, but this isn’t just anything or anyone.

“There’s something I want to give you,” Adam says. “I’ve found a way and ... I want you to have it.”

“Give me what?” Tommy asks. His voice already sounds hoarse and he’s not even crying.

Adam lifts Tommy’s chin. His smile is sad, like he’s resigned himself to something. He runs a finger over Tommy’s cheek, wiping away pieces of melting snow.

“We have to see the Fates,” he says.

 _This is it,_ Tommy thinks. _He’s getting rid of me. Why else would he want us to go before the Fates?_

“Oh,” Tommy says, trying to sound nonchalant. “When?”

“I guess now,” Adam says.

 _He can’t even wait,_ Tommy thinks. _He just drops this on me and now he wants to get it over with before the fucking sun sets._

Tommy resolves not to cry, not beg, not to show one ounce of emotion. His dignity will be all he has left and he’s not ruining it by creating an emotional scene. He stiffens his spine, preparing for the worst, and nods in agreement that they should go now.

Tommy has never seen the Fates and he stands before them in awe. The three goddesses range in age - maiden, matron, and crone. They wear blue robes and silver crowns and stand in front of an impossibly large tapestry. It’s a colorful tapestry threaded with life lines. A wheel is off to the side, feeding thread into the tapestry. It moves slowly. Tommy knows that the maiden, Clotho, spins the thread from the wheel. Then the matron, Lachesis, determines how long the life will be by measuring the thread. The crone, Atropos, chooses how the life ends. She holds a pair of large, gold scissors, poised to cut a thread when its time is up. Suddenly, Tommy’s nervous. Why were they here? Did Adam want to end him altogether?

Adam bows his head to them before turning to Tommy.

“Tommy, I know that you haven’t been completely happy as a god,” Adam says.

Tommy looks at him and takes a step back.

“As you pointed out once, you didn’t ask for it and you’re right,” Adam says. “I forced it on you for selfish reasons.”

“Are you having me killed?” Tommy asks, taking another step back.

“What?” Adam asks, his brow furrowing. “Why would you think I’m having you killed? This isn’t a movie.”

“Why else are we here?” Tommy asks. “And you’re bringing up my immortality like you regret it.”

“No,” Adam says, shaking his head. “Hold on. I didn’t bring you here to harm you or destroy you.”

Tommy nods. Okay, he just brought Tommy here to dump him. Adam continues.

“Like I said, you haven’t been that satisfied with immortality and I don’t blame you. Yes, I took you away and you lost time with your family. I made you a god because I didn’t want to lose you. I’m afraid the trip to Hades to see your family just increased your longing for them and hurt more than it helped. You got caught in dreams about them, and I know they weren’t actually your family, but you thought they were, and you kept going back. I don’t want to keep you from them if that’s where you want to be.”

“I don’t understand,” Tommy says.

“The Fates are willing to re-thread your life line back to the time before I came into it,” Adam says. “You can be human again. You can go back to that time in your life and be with your family and live out your days with them like you should have in the first place if I hadn’t interfered.”

Tommy looks at the tapestry. It shimmers and pulses and it’s so vibrant.

“I wouldn’t be a god anymore?” he asks.

“No.”

“Would I still meet you?” he asks.

“No.”

Tommy shakes his head, tears in the corners of his eyes. His feelings are so mixed. Yes, he misses his family and he always will. Yes, he’d love to see and talk to them again. And Adam? Adam loves him so much he’s willing to give up eternity with him so that Tommy could be happy.

“I don’t believe this,” he mutters. “Is this why you’ve been so distant?                    

Adam shrugs. “I guess I’ve been trying to get used to the idea of life without you.”

“We would never meet,” Tommy states. “Would I know about you?”

“Like you would know about any other god,” Adam says.

“Would you know about me?”

“I would remember everything, all of this, all of you. I would choose to keep my memories.”

“Wouldn’t you be sad?” Tommy asks.

He can see Adam’s bottom lip tremble slightly before he speaks.

“I would be crushed every day,” he says. “But I would know you were happy and where you truly wanted to be.”

Tommy’s heart clenches. Adam would spend eternity in sorrow just so Tommy could be back with his family. A tear snakes its way down his cheek.

“Fuck your idea,” Tommy says thickly. “Fuck you, Adam.”

“I’m sorry?” Adam says, surprised.

“You should be,” Tommy says. “How could you think that I would just leave you? So what if I dreamed of my family and I wanted to. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to be with you. No, you didn’t ask me if I wanted immortality, there wasn’t exactly time. You did it to save me, not because you were selfish, but because my life shouldn’t have been ripped away by some jealous bitch. You put yourself in danger for me. You even gave up living on Olympus because I wanted to stay on earth. So fuck your idea, Adam. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’ve always been where I’m supposed to be. And if you think you’re getting rid of me, then fuck you, too.”

Adam stares at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

“You just haven’t seemed that happy,” Adam says quietly. “I wanted to fix that.”

“You’ve never been human,” Tommy says. “It’s a huge transition, and a fast transition, from human to god. There’s no manual either. And we’ve had Hades to contend with and now the Furies. Adjusting has been fucking hard.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Adam says.

“And you might have if you’d come to me, if you’d talked to me instead of going off and arranging all this,” Tommy says. “You don’t know everything like you think you do.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Adam says.

Tommy narrows his eyes at him. “You’re a big dork, Adam. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Shock registers on Adam’s face and then he breaks into genuine laughter. Tommy guesses no one has ever called Zeus’ Heart, the god of True Love a big dork before.

“So that’s a no to my idea?” Adam asks.

“It’s the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Tommy says.

Adam nods, looking fondly at him, and Tommy swears that he can see Adam glow just slightly. He realizes that Adam’s splendor had diminished and he didn’t notice until now. He looks back at the tapestry. There is a thread pulled from it and Clotho and Lachesis are holding it reverently.

“Is that mine?” he asks.

Adam takes his hand and walks him to the goddesses. Tommy looks on his life thread.

“Each change, each color is a transition in your life,” Adam says. “Whether you changed in age or there was a life event, it’s all represented.”

Tommy leans close, examining the line. The different colors bleed into each other, some bold, some light. Some colors reach a long way up the thread while some are short.

“There’s a black spot,” he says, pointing. “Just a dot.”

“That was your death,” Adam says. “Your mortal death. The thread is typically cut at that point, but since you took the apple, the death is represented as a black mark.”

“So everything after it is my immortality,” he says, mainly to himself. He notices that the colors after the black dot are more iridescent than the colors before it. “That’s really cool. Where’s yours?”

Adam laughs and gestures to Tommy’s thread. “If you look closely, you will see mine coiled with yours.”

He sees it. In the midst of his there is one strand that’s more lustrous. He stares at it, memorizing it. It’s beautiful. Adam really was threaded into him.

“Most never see their thread,” Adam says. “Most don’t ask for audience with the representatives of destiny.”

Tommy straightens up. The Fates haven’t made a noise or a move since they’ve been there. They’ve simply been watching. Yes, an audience with Destiny is rare.

Still holding Adam’s hand, he faces Adam and takes his other hand.

“We’re in front of Destiny,” he says. “Anything committed before them is unbreakable.”

“Correct,” Adam says. “Nothing can break any oath taken before them.”

“I know our lives were set together a long time ago and maybe declarations aren’t necessary,” Tommy says. “But...”

“You want an oath in front of the Fates,” Adam finishes.

Tommy nods. “Is that stupid?”

“Never,” Adam says.

“Because of you I have this life,” Tommy says. “And I want this life, with you and no one else. I will never belong to another. We were Fated centuries ago, but I still choose you. Every time.”

Adam smiles, touching Tommy’s face. “I will always cherish you. You will never be without me. I am your god, your love, your life. We may’ve been Fated, but you are mine and I’m yours, and I will always choose you.” 

“Pou einai pano apo ola. Eisai aioniotita mou,” Tommy says, knowing how Adam loves it when he speaks Greek. (You are above everything. You are my eternity.)

Adam’s eyes light up and he repeats the sentiment to Tommy, punctuating it with a kiss.

Tommy looks back at the Fates, who are still holding his life thread. It looks different now. A piece of it has changed.

“It’s silver,” Tommy says.

“It’s wrapped in a vow before the Fates,” Adam says. “It’s unbreakable and they will never cut it.”

Tommy buries his face in Adam’s neck as he holds close to him. When he looks up he notices they’re home again.

“You don’t overstay your welcome with those ladies,” Adam says. “Besides, we have a week to make up for.”

“One thing first,” Tommy says. “I think... well our time here has been fun. For the most part. But... maybe it’s time to go to Olympus?”

“You want to live on Olympus?” Adam asks.

Tommy shrugs. “It’s your home. You’ve lived here for me, and I think it’s time we go there.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Is that okay? Do you want to?”

“I would love to take you there,” Adam says.

“Sort of a new start,” Tommy says.

“Absolutely,” Adam says, then nods in the direction of the bedroom. “But first...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for coming along! Your kudos and comments are appreciated more than you know!

**Author's Note:**

> Morpheus is the Greek god of sleep and dreams. "In the arms of Morpheus" is an expression used to say one is asleep.


End file.
